A Full Moon Ch. 02

The next day dawned and I was not surprised Patrick was up before me since I was still mostly on California time. I stretched and regretted it as I felt the scratches again. That brought back the conversation after that simply amazing sex. Dude was whacked out of his mind. A werewolf! But he said he was not Canis Lupus...was there any other type of wolf? It was all so crazy...but some part of me knew he believed it. I pulled on my pants and a long sleeve shirt, boots and my jacket cause it was freezing out there. When I got out of the tent Patrick was standing there with no shirt on and in a pair of jeans. God, insane freak that he was he was still one hunky dude and I knew I would still bang that tight ass. "Sleep well?" he asked me without looking up. I had not made much noise at all.

"Yeah. Some hunky dude wore me out last night." He stood and smiled. I walked over to the stump to sit down while he finished cooking breakfast. My job was dinner. On the way I gave him a pat on his ass and he chuckled a bit.

"Not mad at me for the scratches?"

"Never was. That anti-wolf gunk was harsh dude. That I'm mad at you for." He looked at me on the verge of speaking when he stopped cause I was grinning like a fool.

"Fuck you." He was laughing at my dopey smile.

"Nope, but I wouldn't mind getting yours again. If you're not too sore." Patrick came over and kissed the side of my neck and my ear. I shuddered because that spot always got me so hot that I would not think...just like last night. But since I had already done all that with this guy I would not feel so bad about doing it again...and again. "Don't start if you won't finish."

Standing he chuckled and went back to cooking. "I know you don't believe me, Jon, but thanks for being so cool about it all."

"So you're a lunatic whack job. Still a cool dude," I said with a snort and he flipped me off. "You know what? Why can't you be this relaxed at work. I mean some decorum must be adhered to, but I like you better like this than that mousy low wolf schmuck."

"Yeah, well, I am that schmuck because I'm not Lupus. The pack is very strict about hierarchy and my kind is almost dead last just above dingos and poodles." I laughed at the serious but merry twinkle in his eye. He believed it so I would not refute it, but it was still funny. "If you get my Lycanth infection you will be shunted out of management and into a menial job. Janitor or mail boy, anything other than a powerful place."

He served up some eggs, bacon and fried potatoes that were better than anything I could make. The subtle flavors were great, adding one more brick to his credibility. Nothing with superior senses wanted bland or nasty food. "What about you. You're an OA. That's middle management."

"Angus is scared to demote me." I raised a brow. "My kind are known to be erratic. We do not get the full Lupus form during the moon. Hybrids."

"You mean like in Underworld?" I loved that movie series. The Lycans from them were freaking awesome. I watched the making of stuff and wished I could have that costume come Halloween. And Kate Beckinsale was just hot.

"More or less. More human, less wolf, but still we retain most of our human side which means conscious thought mixed with animalistic ways. The worst stories about Lycanthropes have been about my kind." I ate slowly, enthralled by this fantasy he had created. It was thorough enough to be real. "But he's scared to demote me specifically." Again I raised a brow in question. "Once in a while there is a Lycan born rather than infected. We as a species are sterile, we infect rather than breed. But it happens maybe once a human generation that a Lycan male successfully breeds with a human female and she bears the child, dying since we come out in our hybrid form with teeth and claws." That would be torture on the poor woman. Ripped literally from the inside. "These children, which I am one, are so rare that they are almost set apart to protect them because half of us can breed. I can breed if I wanted, but since I have yet to find my lifemate, and won't so long as Angus is in power, I have yet to breed."

"Hence the bisexuality."

"Mostly. I'm attracted to whoever smells good." He grinned at me in a way that was purely predatory and the Man began to stand up. Another first since I was never one to get hard without direct contact. "But I'm rare even for my rare kind. I can change outside of a full moon to some degree."

"Then change for me. Make me believe." I was calling his bluff.

"Okay, but I get more sensitive to everything when I'm at that halfway point. I'm giving you a chance to take it back because I will probably take you by force. You smell that good." I wondered if he was actually serious. He was probably stronger than me even if he was not a Lycanthrope so while I may put up a good fight he could probably rape me...so why did this idea not repulse me?

"Later then. I want to go hiking before I get raped by a ravening beast." He laughed and nodded. "If nothing else, Patrick you are awesome to hang out with. You've a helluva imagination, dude, whether it's real or not. You should write a book." I was being honest. I liked him, a lot. Enough to consider making our private time something more than just a fling in the woods. If we could stay friends and fuck on the side it was awesome.

An hour later we were on the trails. I'd set aside my jeans and jacket for shorts and tossed my bag over my shoulders. It was a clear day and warming quickly so the temp plus my moving kept me warm enough. Patrick seemed to lose himself in his hike, inhaling often and deeply to revel in the scents of nature. I would watch him dash to the side and squat to gently lift a flower to his nose with a smile on his face. So innocent an act from a man who could rip apart your average guy from sheer strength; it made me smile. A few times he would come up behind me and wrap his big old arms around my waist and kiss my neck. I would never hear him coming and I never told him to stop since by this time I knew his sense of smell was very good and I knew quite a bit about pheromones. The smell thing was obviously true. He would then pull away with an apologetic look in his eyes and I would smile at him to let him know I was okay with him doing it. It had not occurred to me that we were not even talking but we were communicating through postures and looks. No lies, no muddy truths, just simple communication with nothing to cloud the meaning. I could tell he wanted to kiss me by the way his eyes would drop to my lips, but he would not do it without me saying yes.

Midday came and we were fishing for our supper on a rock in the middle of the stream, sun-warmed and flat. Our shirts and shoes were on it since it was hot enough to not need the shirts and the shoes had gotten a bit damp coming out here. I had already caught a good sized trout but it would be best if we caught a few more so we could eat like kings tonight and tomorrow before we headed back to reality. I was feeling good, better than I had in a long time. Something about the mountains, the clean freshness, was enough to make me glad to come here. Plus I had a great friend already. Now if only that nagging feeling that he was tell the truth about Lycanthropes would go away. I smiled over at him and Patrick returned it. Then the wind shifted and the smile fell off his face. "Jon, could you stand to get in the water?"

"I guess, why?"

"Get in up to your neck and don't make a sound." I opened my mouth to protest but he fixed me with a look that said he would force the issue if I did not. I set down my pole and slid into the bracing cold water, gasping softly. I looked back to see Patrick take of his shorts. Then something leaped the thirty feet to the rock and he went splashing into the water. I was about to call out and go after him when another form landed there. What I saw took my breath away.

It stood eight feet tall on its hind legs with gray fur and maddened red eyes. From its toothy maw came dripping saliva and its snout tried to get a scent of me from where I had been. Its shoulders were hunched and easily four feet across, his paws and claws bigger than the span of my spread hand, and his tail fluffed out in rage. I watched as this Lycan beast's nose twitched as it tried to get my scent and I guessed it was not very much for seeing since I was less than ten feet away. He was telling the truth! All of it had to be true and here was proof. From the water on the other side came Patrick...at least I hoped it was. Obviously male he stood seven feet tall and so massive that I knew he outweighed the monster on the rock. A cross between a man and the monster before me, it had furry cheeks like overgrown mutton chops, white blond fur covered him from shoulder to groin. His nearly human muzzle had blood on it and those stunning blue eyes, Patrick's eyes, caught mine and warned me to stay there. I nodded once. Then he leaped for the beast.

I could not follow the fight. It was too fast, too furious. I could only see gray and white blurs, heard only snarling and howls of pain and I could not tell who it was who was hurt. Blood splattered the rocks and our gear, splattered across my face and as shocked as I was I recalled he said blood was the worst so I ducked under the water and scrubbed it off furiously before it got into my own bloodstream. When I surfaced I saw something that scared me. Patrick was bleeding and on the ground, the monster facing away from me. He was hoisted up and off the ground, held aloft by the beast. Without thinking I was out of the water and pulling the hunting knife from the side of my pack. I leaped, hoping it did not scent me, and scored a stab in the monster's side. It howled in pained fury and dropped Patrick to the stone. It spun faster than I thought it could but aimed too high. It was going for a slash against a Lycanthrope not a tall-ish human. This gave me one chance. I drove the knife up and under the creature's jaw, slamming with every ounce of strength I had, driving the blade into it's brain and twisting for good measure. Its eyes bugged out like it could not believe the audacity of a mere human disabling it. Watching it topple was satisfying. Keeping it in my sight and my pitiful senses open in case their were more, I moved to Patrick's side. He looked up at me. "Get in the water now." His voice was much deeper than normal and it came out with more growl than anything. I was torn between wanting to help and sense.

Sense won. I slipped back into the water and waited. After a very long time I was losing consciousness from the cold water and hypothermia. I recall feeling someone haul me out of the water. That was all until I woke late that night in the tent and Patrick was curled around me, once again human. We were sharing one bag with the other draped over us, anything to keep me warm. The strangest thing was I knew he was as much a monster as those others, just as capable of tearing me apart, but I didn't care. I felt safe. "Patrick?" I asked quietly and his eyes flickered open. "You okay?"

His smile was the most beautiful thing I had seen in a long time. "About as healed as I can be in so short a time. You have got to be the dumbest, bravest human alive to take on a feral with only a hunting knife that was not silver."

"I could not let it kill you...or whatever it was planning." I placed my hand on his cheek and kissed him. It was soft and loving as any kiss with a woman and he did not try to ravage me like I was half expecting. "But you're fine?" He nodded. "Don't scare me like that again, dude." He chuckled without much humor. "Why did you ask me to get back in the water?"

"I'm a masochist. Pain turns me on...and I could smell you that close to me." I grinned and turned him around to hold onto him as he had held me. He sighed and relaxed back against me. We were naked with his ass pressed against my groin. "You okay with me being Lycan?"

"Gives new meaning to the words doggy style."

"Okay, point of advice. Never call a Lycan a dog. Good way to get killed." But he was smiling at me, his blue eyes radiant in the soft light of the campfire outside banked for the night. "But I'll be your bitch any time."

"I'll hold you to that, Patrick. Those...ferals. Are they dead?" I had to ask. I would not stay in these woods a second longer if they were still around.

"By now they should be. I may be a lowly OA but I have some pull with the former pack leader." He grinned slyly. "He is my father after all." I chuckled, knowing a little bit more about how he survived in a place where he was a pariah. "I let him know there were ferals in the area and he discreetly told the hunters. If there were anymore of them they are dead or fled by now."

"And does Daddy know about your seducing the new guy?" I asked nuzzling his neck and kissing his ear.

"He should since he and two hunters are sitting around the fire right now chuckling at how fast I work." My jaw dropped and he nodded.

"You mean they..." I trailed off as I felt my face flush. While I was unconcerned with them knowing I had sex with Patrick, I was scared that they might know I may have been infected.

"My father knows everything since he willing stepped down before his prime had passed and I keep him abreast of everything within the company and pack. He knows you banged the shit out of me last night. He could smell you on me." I groaned and heard a soft chuckle from outside.

"Pipe down voyeurs," I barked and they all laughed. I ended up laughing too which only made it funnier. I leaned as close as I could to his ear and barely breathed out, "Thank you for saving my life." He shivered and nodded. "Should I put some clothes on? I want to meet your dad." He looked amused. "No?"

"You're a human and you incapacitated a feral. That shows a lot of mettle. You could go naked in front of him to show you are not afraid of him but do not come bearing weapons." He whispered this last part so quietly I almost could not hear him. I nodded and climbed out of the bags and smiled down at him. Leaning forward I kissed him again, this time he kissed back. So much for that rule, but then Patrick was special, had been the moment he came into my office, and now I knew why. I slipped out of the tent naked as the day I was born except for the bandages on my back.

I could tell who his father was even without the other two packing hunting rifles. Save for the different hair color Patrick was a dead ringer for his dad and I found myself thinking his mother, who I realized was dead from his birth, would have fallen fast and hard for this man with that easy smile and merry blue eyes. "Jonathan Davenport, welcome to Massachusetts. I do hope my son has been... accommodating." I shook his hand when he offered. He was a taller version of his son, almost as big as Angus in height but broader in the shoulders.

"In every way, Mr. Andrews. You've got quite a fine son and I hope that we become even closer friends in the future."

"Oh gag!" came one of the hunter's voice. I looked at...her. "Pop, he's banging my bro, do I have to listen?" He had a sister? She looked nothing like him at all...except in the shape of the nose. She was not even all that pretty and I realized she was not Lycan. He had a human sister? Older, she had to be near thirty-one or two.

"No, but he is a very respectful man. Covertly asking for my blessings for him to pursue my son, which I give since he put his own life on the line to save him." He turned back to me with a final nod. "I can tell you have feelings for him that you do not know how to put into words. Mariam over there cannot smell you as we can and I must say Patrick was right. There is a part of your natural scent that even makes me pay attention and I have no desire for male company. He fell for you the moment you walked off the elevator." I couldn't help but grin as Patrick put his arm around my waist and smiled up at me like a love sick puppy.

"Patrick's a very special guy, Mr. Andrews. I would not have been so open were he not." This was new to me and I realized that I could hide nothing from the man. He could smell my emotions and sift through them like I would search for a phrase in my computer at work. He could tell I was already struggling with something I barely knew was there.

"I believe that when the time comes you will find a true friend in each, truer than either of you know or have seen so far." Cryptic much, but I wondered if he wasn't right. I cared for Patrick and I knew he cared for me. I didn't even know why I cared so much about him to do the things we had, I only knew that I was falling for him and I was willingly traveling down a road I never would have gone with any other guy. "Now both of you need your rest to heal. Lycanthropes may heal very fast, Pat, but you need your rest." He nodded and slipped back into the tent. "We shall be standing guard through the night so you need not fear. Isaac, please give Jonathan the gift." The silent hunter came over and pulled a silver wolf's head medallion out of his pocket with a gloved hand. "That item should keep whatever last traces of the infection from gaining hold until your body can fight it off. Wear it to work and in open view if you wish to be left alone. The sight of it will deter all but the most adamant pests and the touch of that will hurt any Lycan, not just wolves," he said and then smiled. "Just don't use it on my son if he gets too grabby."

"He's had every chance in the world to take advantage and has not. I doubt he ever will." I nodded my farewells and slipped into the tent, the pendant going into my bag openly in front of Patrick so he would know where it was. Then I slipped into the bag beside him and wrapped my arms around his broad chest, exploring his body and learning what it was like to hold a man. We fell asleep with me playing with his chest hair.

Sunday dawned a sparkling blue with white clouds wisping overhead. I could hear Patrick talking to his dad softly as I pulled on my clothes. I left my shirts off and walked out to sit next to the fire. "Morning gentlemen."

"How do you feel this morning, Jonathan?" asked Mr. Andrews.

"A little sore but that's only across my back." Patrick dashed to the tent and came back with the first aide kit. He gently removed the old bandage and looked at the scratches. Mr. Andrews came around to look and I heard him audibly sniffing them.

"I smell no infection, Lycan or otherwise, in his back." Patrick heaved a sigh of relief and let it air out for a while. "You are lucky my son cares for you so. Not many Lupus would have cleansed your scratches."

"He said Angus would be pissed if I was infected by him. Why is that?" Patrick gave me breakfast which also came with a kiss.

"Execs are trained and cultivated so they can be infected. That is what the outlying branches are for in reality." Human farms? My mind easily grasped the idea and found it shrewd. "Likely candidates are brought here for closer inspection for traits we like. One is the capacity to breed as only a certain genome is needed which you have." I nodded like I was impressed with myself. "There are a few others but that is the one I put in the founding charter of the company. I want Lycans to be their own people not infecting to multiply. That virus tends to corrupt the host, bringing out their worst parts. With each breeding pair we have we come one step closer to actually having our own race not dependent upon humans anymore."

"Not to interrupt but that sounds like a great idea, from the view point of a human. So if Patrick infected me and I came out like him, which I doubt would be a bad thing in my opinion all things considered, I would have been wasted breeding stock and wasted money. At least to Angus." I got a few nods. "I knew I didn't like him. Patrick is worth ten times all those flea bitten mongrels we work with that treat his kind like trash." Patrick looked scandalized and Mr. Andrews just laughed. "I'm serious. None of them have shown the slightest bit of worth other than a few bitches who just like me cause of my smell."